


Quit Playing Games With My Heart

by themistymountainsong



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1259038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themistymountainsong/pseuds/themistymountainsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am not <em>paranoid</em> Lydia! You’re the ones who are totally fucking with me- with us! You can’t say that this last month has been a series of weird, random happenstances!” Lydia ignores him, moving to open the car door, but before she can reach it Stiles hits the driver’s side lock. “No. No getting out of the car until you admit that you’ve had a hand in this.”</p><p>“Fine,” Lydia says, arms crossed, leveling Stiles with her glare that effectively says <em>I could crush you under my heel and I don’t know why I like you</em>. “We’ve been trying to set you and Derek up in time for Valentine’s Day.”</p><p>“What?!” he shrieks. “I mean- what?” he repeats, in a more reasonable tone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quit Playing Games With My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This one goes out to Michelle, my tireless beta in all things fictional and real life. This was supposed to be a Christmas gift, then a late Christmas gift, then it was gonna be in time for Valentine's Day and now here we are. Anyway, a million thanks to Michelle for everything, I really hope this is what you wanted. Title from the Backstreet Boys because they're Michelle's jam.
> 
> Disclaimer: I have never been to a karaoke bar, nor have I been to a wine-tasting, so if those parts seems bullshitted it's because they definitely were.

Stiles has the worst friends. He sits in his jeep in the movie theater parking lot, and texts Lydia _again_.

**where are you guys???**

He gets no answer, which- well, it’s not all that shocking for Scott or Isaac to be flaky, hell, even Allison can be hard to reach when she’s on a kickboxing high; but Lydia is _reliable_. That Stiles can’t reach her now is unusual to the point of being worrying.

Ten minutes ‘till the movie’s set to start, Stiles sees a familiar figure pass his car.

“Derek!” Stiles practically flings himself out of his car.

Derek nods at him, which is the closest Derek will get to greetings with Stiles. It’s not that they _dislike_ each other, per se, it’s more that they just don’t- well, they don’t overlap. Stiles has known Scott since forever, and Allison since high school. Lydia he’s technically known since third grade, but he didn’t actually know her as more than an obsession until they were seventeen and had bonded while trying to save Scott from wolfsbane poisoning (total mix-up, and actually kind of a funny story, but- no. Off topic). Jackson, when he and Lydia are on-again, can be dealt with in small doses, and with Jackson comes Danny.

Then Scott had started dating Isaac, and apparently dating Isaac meant you dated the entire Hale pack. Isaac’s cool and all, but there’s no way Stiles would spend as much time with him as he does were it not for the fact that Scott and Isaac are basically attached at the hip. It’s only annoying when they’re not being sickeningly cute- which is to say, almost never. Erica, Isaac’s foster sister, decided to forcibly adopt Stiles when she saw his collectible Bruce Wayne figurine set, and because he earned Erica’s seal of approval, Stiles also got Boyd’s. Laura’s a deputy, so Stiles sees her whenever he visits his dad. Cora is hard to get a read on, much like Derek. But unlike Derek, Cora had inexplicably decided around Christmas that Stiles had passed some sort of test and now she deigns to speak to him. Whatever man- the holidays do weird shit to people.

That just leaves Derek, whose main contribution to their large and seemingly ever-growing circle of friends is the crucial brooding and antisocial element.

“Where are the others?” Derek asks, already turning to walk toward the theater.

“Wow dude, I’m _wounded_. It’s like my company’s not enough for you.” Derek responds with an eyeroll. He has no appreciation for Stiles’ humor. Which is excellent, obviously. “I don’t know where they are. Scott and Isaac were supposed to drive together. Lydia said she’d bring Allison along, but they haven’t texted me back.”

Derek huffs, coming to a stop in front of the box office. “The movie starts in a minute.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I don’t like missing the previews,” Derek says, looking sidelong at Stiles. It’s weird to think that this is the most personal information Derek has ever offered to Stiles.

“Okay. They can just meet us inside I guess?” Derek nods. Stiles goes to buy his ticket, and when he asks for one, the woman behind the window looks from Derek and back, giving Stiles a disapproving look, like- _ugh_ , like Stiles is being a bad date. Which, no.

Derek picks their seats, but he at least has the courtesy to check with Stiles before he picks a row. As he’s sitting down, Stiles’ phone buzzes.

“It’s Scott,” he whispers, pulling his phone out, angling it so Derek can see.

**hey we got seats where are you**

Stiles cranes his neck, looking at the surrounding rows.

“They aren’t here,” Derek says, without looking- weird freaking werewolf senses.

**dude we’re in our seats too??**

It’s another minute of awkward fiddling with his phone before Scott answers.

**uh i think we’re in the wrong theater. sorry?**

Stiles throws his head back against the seat.

“They’re not coming?” Derek asks, voice completely flat.

“Went to the wrong place.” Derek hums, but seems otherwise unconcerned by this news, and a silence stretches between them. Stiles toys with his phone through the previews, and then by tapping out a staccato rhythm on the armrest. Derek raises a judgmental eyebrow, and Stiles stops.

They’re ten minutes into the movie when Derek leans in, resting his elbow on the armrest. Stiles is ready to condemn Derek as a shameless armrest hog when he whispers in Stiles’ ear, “This guy was better in Ant-Man.” Stiles is more than a little surprised that Derek’s okay with talking in movies- he barely seems to tolerate talking for anything more than survival- but Stiles isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Yeah dude- way better,” Stiles says, giving Derek a small grin.

They exchange the occasional comment through the movie, and while it isn’t totally comfortable, it’s still… alright. Better than he expected hanging out solo with Derek would be.

When the movie ends, Stiles waits for Derek to shrug his jacket on before they head out. It’s suddenly stilted as they’re walking, and Stiles is relieved when they get to his car.

“This was cool,” Stiles says, swinging himself into his car. Derek gives him a nod and a small smirk, likes he knows that his nods are a source of aggravation for Stiles.

He’s just pulling up to his apartment when his phone rings.

“Lydia! Where the hell are you? Are you okay-”

“Stiles, I’m fine.” He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We were leaving when Allison started feeling sick, so we decided not to come. Why, was it that bad?”

“It… wasn’t awful,” Stiles says diplomatically.

Lydia makes a thoughtful noise. Stiles _hates_ that noise. It almost always means she’s planning something, and having Lydia’s intense planning skills focused on _Stiles_ usually means that she’s about to try to change his life drastically in some way.

“Define ‘not awful.’ What was bad?”

“I don’t know- it was kind of awkward I guess? It’s not like we talk all that much,” Stiles says.

“Right, so: talking points, common interests, stuff like that? That’s what was missing?”

“Uh, I guess so?”

“Great. Noted!” Lydia says, sounding satisfied. “I’ll let you go then. Bye Stiles!”

She hangs up, leaving Stiles looking at his phone in confusion.

“I need to get saner friends,” he mutters.

*

Office hours are empty, which isn’t unusual, since winter quarter has only just started, and Derek uses the time to get extra work done. He’s finishing prepping a lecture for the next week when there’s a knock at his open doorway, and Isaac’s there with a wide, knowing smile.

“Hey Derek,” Isaac says, sounding _far_ too gleeful about something.

“Isaac,” Derek replies, cautiously.

“So. Heard you and Stiles saw a movie over the weekend?”

“You mean the movie you and Scott were supposed to be at, and then left us alone for? _That_ movie?” Derek levels Isaac with a look that he hopes conveys his annoyance. Judging by Isaac’s impish grin, he remains unfazed. Derek sighs. “If the two of you wanted to go by yourselves, you could’ve just said.”

Isaac’s smile dims a little at that. “We didn’t want to ditch you guys, Derek, we just- uh, got confused.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Right.”

“So, uh- did you guy have fun?” Isaac asks, with a practiced sort of casualness that puts Derek on guard.

“Sure. Movie was good.”

“And the company?”

“Stiles is… yeah. He’s good too.”

“Really?” Isaac says, drawing the word out. “Because _I_ heard you barely spoke to him.”

Derek feels his brow furrow in confusion. “We talked plenty- I talked to him during the movie.”

Isaac’s eyebrows climb. “You talked to him? _During a movie_?! What about all that crap you spew when I wanna talk during movies- the ‘sacred bond between moviegoer and filmmaker’ or whatever?”

“You’re not interesting to talk to during movies,” Derek mumbles, but not quiet enough for Isaac to miss it, and Isaac starts cackling. It’s times like these that Derek questions his mother’s decision to turn Isaac. “And, wait- who did you even hear this from? Stiles?”

Isaac answers, still laughing a little, “Nah, Lydia.” Which means Stiles talked to Lydia, about seeing a movie with Derek- about Derek not talking to him. Derek doesn’t even know why the thought bothers him. It’s not like he and Stiles are great friends. Of their entire group, they’re the ones who have the most tenuous connection to each other.

“Derek, stop scowling- didn’t your mother ever warn you that your face might stick like that?” Derek growls, and Isaac just laughs. “Scary.”

Derek packs up his things, and the two of them head off campus together. With Isaac finishing his undergrad degree at the campus where Derek was hired as a lecturer, carpooling is a must. BHU might not be the most prestigious of universities, but it gives Isaac an opportunity to get his Bachelor’s and Derek a place to put his History PhD to use where neither of them have to leave the pack. As much as Derek might complain about getting Isaac out of bed on time for them to leave, or the coffee runs he demands on the way to campus, Derek wouldn’t trade it for anything- it’s pack. A stable pack.

“We’re going to a carnival this weekend,” Isaac says, stepping gingerly into the Camaro.

“Seatbelt.”

Isaac rolls his eyes, quickly giving Derek a flash of gold. “You know, in the event of an accident- which may be impossible given the fact that you drive like a grandmother- I think the whole werewolf healing thing will make my seatbelt a non-issue.”

It’s an old argument, and one they mostly have for form’s sake at this point. “And yet, it’s the law. And knowing my sister, she’d be the one to catch us.”

“Fine,” Isaac huffs. He’s quiet for a moment, before he seems to remember that before arguing the rules of car safety he had been making plans. “So! Carnival? Yes or yes?”

“An emphatic no.”

“Come on Derek, it’ll be fun! Erica and Boyd are going. So’s Scott- also Allison, Lydia and Stiles.”

“Carnivals are disgusting- they’re loud, and there are too many smells, and I am definitely going to bump into one of my students if we go. Better not to tempt fate,” Derek says, hoping that’ll be the end of the conversation.

“It would give you a chance to ream Lydia out for gossiping about how boring Stiles thinks you are.” Isaac gives Derek a grin that looks like he knows he’s won.

Damn. “He said I- you know what? Fine,” Derek says, choosing to ignore Isaac for the rest of the ride. He’s only going because he should talk to Lydia about her habit of over-reaching into her friends’ lives, and not because of any other reason. Any _boring_ reason. Obviously. If Derek slams his car door a little, no one’s around to comment on it but Isaac, anyway.

*

“What are you wearing?” Laura says, hardly pausing before she’s pushing past Stiles and into his living room.

“Hi Laura, nice to see you, won’t you come in,” Stiles deadpans. “And what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” He tugs at his plaid. “It’s a carnival, not a state dinner.”

She just grins, grabbing his arm and tugging him towards his bedroom. He tries to dig his heels in, but her damned superstrength makes resistance a futile effort.

“Come on, Laura, no. I’m gonna wear what I want-”

“Stiles,” she coaxes. “Let me have fun where I can.”

“What? Laura, no, I did not agree to this when you offered me a ride, let’s go.”

She rolls her eyes, but lets go of his arm. “ _Fine_. You can have a pass today, but you owe me.”

“Yeah, sure. Next time you want to use me as your human Ken doll, you go right ahead.”

Laura beams at him. “I’m holding you to that,” she says, leading Stiles to where she parked her police cruiser in front of his building.

“So- carnivals? You’re a fan?” she asks, when they’ve pulled away from the curb.

“Yeah.” Stiles grins. “Scott and I have been going since we were kids- our moms used to take us. And then after- well, then Melissa took Scott and I, and then Scott and I just kept going, kind of like a tradition.”

Laura’s giving him one of her rare, soft smiles. “That’s really nice,” she says, reaching over to squeeze his hand briefly. Laura’s funny like that- she’ll tease mercilessly, but she can also be really sweet. Not that Stiles would ever say that to her face- she might have him killed to protect her reputation as a hardass.

Laura pulls up next to the entrance- she shamelessly abuses her privileges as a deputy- and Scott and Isaac are waiting for them inside the gate. When Scott sees Stiles, he breaks into a huge grin and starts waving enthusiastically.

“Hey buddy,” Stiles says, before Scott wraps him up in a bone-crushing hug.

“It’s carnival day!” Scott says when he releases Stiles, practically vibrating with excitement.

Stiles laughs. “Hell yeah it is! Hey Isaac.” Isaac smiles and claps him on the back, going to greet Laura.

“Scotty, where are the ATMs? I need cash.”

“No, you don’t need money!” Scott says quickly. “I’m really sorry about the movies last weekend- lemme make it up to you.” Scott looks sheepish, and Stiles is about to tell him that it really wasn’t that bad, that parts of it had been downright pleasant, when Scott continues, “I’ll buy all of your food and ride tickets today.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “ _All of them?_ That’s a lot of funnel cake you’re promising me, Scott.”

Scott’s eager puppy look is back. “So much funnel cake dude! I’m serious- you won’t pay for anything today. Here- gimme your wallet.” Stiles smiles at him, and hands his wallet over. Scott’s determination to be the best friend in the history of friendship is, as usual, endearing.

They end up meandering through the carnival until Isaac gets a text from Derek saying that the rest of their group is by the food booths.

“Well, if you’re going to start going on rides, I should probably go find your dad, Stiles. You know- Sheriff’s Department is doing security today and I wouldn’t want to leave them understaffed,” Laura says, already turning back towards the entrance without waiting for a response.

“Say hi to my dad for me!” Stiles calls after her, and she acknowledges him with a quick thumbs up before she’s off again.

They find Lydia, Allison, Erica, Boyd and Derek lounging all over a picnic table; Erica is mostly sitting on Boyd’s lap, whispering conspiratorially with Lydia while Boyd is talking to Derek and Allison.

“Hey guys,” Scott says as they slide into any and all available spaces, and everyone tries their best to hug and greet everyone else at the table simultaneously.

When they’ve disentangled themselves, Lydia stands. “Ferris wheel now!” She smiles sharply, and everyone else follows quickly, Scott shoving several ride tickets into Stiles’ hands.

Allison pulls Stiles aside, linking her arm through his. “How’s work?” she asks, bumping a shoulder with him and giving him a sunny smile.

“Good.” His answering grin is reactionary, and their conversation is easy and light until they get in line, when Lydia taps insistently on his shoulder.

“I need to borrow Allison,” she says, dragging Allison along with her.

“Lydia! Who am I gonna sit next to now?!” he shouts, but Lydia ignores him as she and Allison give the operator their tickets. Erica and Boyd take the next cart, and Scott and Isaac follow. Leaving Stiles with… Derek. Great.

“Coming?” Derek asks, while Stiles is still shuffling his feet through the dirt.

“Yeah.” Stiles gets his tickets out, and makes to follow Derek. He steps into the cart, which gives a precarious swing, and Stiles loses his balance- and he promptly lands in Derek’s lap.

“Shit, shit, s-sorry,” Stiles stutters, trying to right himself by grabbing onto Derek’s arms, which only ends with him _straddling Derek oh god_ \- 

Derek’s ears are reddening, but he calmly puts his hands on Stiles’ waist and lifts him.

“It’s fine,” Derek says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets quickly when he’s set Stiles down.

It’s quiet between them, but the small bench seat keeps their sides firmly pressed together. Stiles clears his throat as the ferris wheel pauses. “So- how’s teaching?”

Derek seems taken aback that Stiles is choosing to speak to him. “Oh, it’s good.” Stiles assumes that Derek isn’t going to elaborate, and resigns himself to a very quiet ride when Derek speaks again. “I mean- it’s busy, and since I’m only a lecturer I’m still teaching lower-division classes, but at least _most_ of the students seem to give a shit.”

“You teach, what is it? Early Western Civilizations?”

“I- yeah. I do,” Derek says, giving Stiles a sort of surprised smile, and the cart starts moving again. “How’s the library?”

“Oh you know, old people, kids, and as always- a lot of books.” 

Derek snorts. “But you’re getting your master’s?”

“In library science, yeah.” The cart stops at the top of the wheel. “Wow,” Stiles says, looking over the town. “I always forget how… nice Beacon Hills can look.”

Derek hums in agreement, and they lapse into a silence, more comfortable than their previous ones. It’s sort of nice, in a strange way, when Derek’s not acting like he actively wants away from Stiles’ presence, that is.

The ride stops, and their friends are all huddled by the exit. Stiles moves to stand and get out first, but Derek stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “Let me,” he says, and he climbs over Stiles and onto the platform first, before offering a hand to help Stiles out. “Don’t need you falling all over anyone else,” Derek says, smirking.

Stiles rolls his eyes, but takes Derek’s hand as he hops out with a begrudging thanks.

They spend the next couple of hours wandering through various stalls and going on rides when Scott or Stiles demands it, and Scott- true to his word- pays for all of Stiles’ carnival activities throughout the day. They’ve stopped so Scott can buy Stiles a funnel cake when Stiles notices Erica, Allison and Lydia deep in conversation. Without supervision, those three are prone to creating extremely devious plans, and the look of glee on Erica’s face is enough to make Stiles nervous. However, when he turns back to the group they all look completely innocent, so Stiles decides to ignore them in favor of finding a table.

“Lydia and I want to go look at the jewelry sellers’ booths,” Allison announces.

“It’s a carnival,” Derek says. “I don’t think anyone is selling jewelry here.”

Lydia stands, pulling Allison up with her. “Well, then we have to go see why they _don’t_ \- that’s an inexcusable oversight.” They’re not quite out of earshot when Allison starts giggling loudly.

“That was weird,” Stiles says.

“No weirder than they usually are,” Derek replies.

“You’d think if they wanted to ditch us and go make out or whatever, they’d just say as much,” Stiles says around the remainder of his funnel cake. Isaac promptly chokes on his drink, but Derek smiles.

“You don’t they’re- that they-” Scott stutters.

“I don’t know Scott,” Stiles says, mock-thoughtfully. “I’m just saying- they want to be alone at the carnival, and they didn’t show up to the movies last weekend…”

Erica barks out a laugh, standing. “Come on Stilinski, enough of your _tame_ fantasies. Let’s go.”

“You don’t know that my fantasies are _tame_ , Erica.”

“Don’t care!” she hollers back, walking off ahead of them, Boyd’s hand in hers.

Stiles gets up, licking powdered sugar off his fingers. Scott and Isaac have gathered their things, going to follow Erica, and Derek is still seated at the table, looking at Stiles with his brow furrowed.

“You okay man?”

Derek shakes his head a little. “Yeah, just zoned out for a second,” he says, standing quickly.

“Hurry up losers!” Erica shouts. “We’ve been doing stuff that you guys wanna do all day, and you made us go on that horrible spinny ride- it’s my turn to choose!”

It’s turns out that what Erica wants to do is so much worse than the spinning ride.

“The Tunnel of Love, Erica? Are you serious?” Stiles asks, incredulous. Something this cliché is completely unlike Erica- but then again, that’s probably why she picked it. Erica hates being predictable.

“ _Come on_ ,” she simpers. “I have wanted to pick one thing all day, so you can all shut up and enjoy it, okay? Besides, it’s almost Valentine’s Day, so let me bask in the season of love.”

“Valentine’s Day is almost a month away,” Stiles mutters, and Derek huffs a laugh next to him.

Erica and Boyd are walking up to the woman at the ride’s entrance, Isaac and Scott giggling behind them. Stiles makes to follow when Derek’s hand lands on his arm.

“Wait,” Derek whispers, then waits for Scott and Isaac to get through the entrance. “Let’s go.” He starts tugging Stiles away from the ride.

“What- didn’t want to enjoy ‘ _the season of love_ ’?” Stiles waggles his eyebrows for effect.

“Not exactly my scene.” Derek’s tone is flat, but the corner of his mouth lifts in what could be amusement, so Stiles counts it as a win.

“So what’d you have in mind instead?”

“I thought we could walk around for a while. We don’t have to try that hard to make them lose our scents in a crowded place like this, but avoidance is probably best if one is to avoid Erica’s wrath,” Derek says, seemingly unaware of the fact that he has yet to let go of his slack grip on Stiles’ arm.

Stiles makes a thoughtful noise. “Seems like a good enough plan. Unfortunately, I have no money, and Scott took my wallet.”

“You gave Scott your wallet?” Derek asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Didn’t think you were an extreme risk-taker.”

“I’ll have you know, Scott is very dependable these days.”

“Right. So, remind me how he and Isaac ended up with seven dogs?”

“Being physically incapable of seeing animals in pain _and_ deciding to become a vet may not have been Scott’s greatest decision, but I fail to see how that’s relevant. At least he _dependably_ brings stray dogs home.”

Derek laughs, and even when he lets go of Stiles’ arm they still walk close, shoulders brushing occasionally. He even buys Stiles a churro (which gets ruined a minute later when they have to hide from Erica and Stiles drops his churro- but Derek buys him another one).

When they’re ready to leave, Derek offers Stiles a ride, and Stiles accepts because Derek’s Camaro is awesome and he’s pretty sure Laura bailed hours ago.

Later, Stiles texts Scott to apologize for ditching them, and tells Scott about his afternoon with Derek. He’s just getting out of the shower when his phone buzzes.

**:))))**

**lemme know if you want his #**

Seems like an odd thing for Scott to suggest, and it’s not like he thinks he’ll have an immediate need for Derek’s phone number, but it could be useful. Lots of uses- no other reason than utility.

**yeah ok send it to me**

*

Erica, Boyd and Isaac are like the extra younger siblings that Derek never asked for, but got landed with anyway.

Isaac likes Cora best. Understandable- in high school, Cora was the one who figured out where Isaac’s mysterious bruises were coming from. She brought Isaac to Talia, and Talia had used her connections in the district attorney’s office to speed along Isaac’s legal emancipation case. Isaac’s father had gone to jail, and Isaac had approached Talia about receiving the bite. She told him to abide by the law- wait until he was 18, and seek therapy so he would pass the government-mandated psych eval that was part of the application process for being bitten by an alpha (unresolved issues in a person receiving the bite could create a kanima, and the application process tries to minimize that possibility).

Derek’s parents would have taken Isaac in if they could have, but despite werewolves having most of the same legal rights as humans, werewolf adoption of a human was nearly impossible. Talia found another family, with a daughter in Isaac’s class- the Reyes family- willing to adopt Isaac. Which is how Isaac brought Erica, his adoptive sister, along with him as a prospective candidate for the bite. She had epilepsy, and incurable medical conditions always made for a strong application.

Erica and Isaac were in their senior year when they filed their applications, and Derek was the one to take them to the Werewolf Affairs Department two towns over. Erica had skittered out of the passenger’s seat with a nervous “Thanks Derek. If- if they don’t accept my application, I just want you to know- you’re my favorite.” Both of their applications were accepted, and for their respective birthdays Talia gave them what they wanted most- a pack.

Boyd was the surprise applicant. He was 19 when he approached Laura. How thoughtful, stoic Boyd found Derek’s obnoxious older sister to be a kindred spirit, Derek will never understand, but apparently they had bonded in his time hanging around the Hale house with Erica. She never told Derek exactly why Boyd had decided that he wanted the bite, or why he wanted it _then_ , but Derek got the idea that what Boyd wanted was to be a part of a large family- Erica’s family. His application was approved, and Erica held his hand when Talia bit him.

Anyway, the point is that Derek somehow acquired three younger siblings that are simultaneously irritating and irresistible. Which is how he finds himself in godawful situations like this.

“I’m not singing,” Derek says, Erica bodily dragging him through the entrance of one of Beacon Hills’ more popular karaoke bars, Isaac and Boyd trailing behind them.

“No one asked you,” Erica says in a singsong voice.

She waves when she finds the booth with Stiles, Scott, Allison, Lydia and- ugh, Jackson. Before Derek can make a move to sit as far away from Jackson as possible, Erica pushes him into the seat next to Stiles. He shoots her a glare, but of course she’s ignoring him in favor of looking through the song selection menu.

“Did they have to bully you into coming?” Stiles asks. It’s loud in the bar, it would be nearly impossible for a human to hear someone over the din of a butchered duet of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” that two women are drunkenly staggering their way through on stage.

He has to lean close to be heard. “Erica is too smart to just rely on physical intimidation- she tends to use blackmail as well.”

Stiles barks out a laugh, looks like he wants to say something else, when Boyd half-shouts, “I’m not nearly drunk enough for this- you guys want something?” They all nod, and soon Boyd comes back with a selection of vodka: straight for the humans, wolfsbane-laced for the werewolves. “Total Eclipse of the Heart” is ending, and there’s a blessed moment of relative quiet before the next song starts.

“This is the cheap stuff,” Jackson says, making a face of disgust at his drink.

Stiles rolls his eyes, and the next “singer” comes onstage- a middle-aged guy who looks deadly serious as the intro chords of “Eye of the Tiger” start playing.

“I hate that guy,” Stiles mutters.

“Who? That guy?” Derek asks, gesturing to the guy onstage.

Stiles snorts. “No, I hate _Jackson_.”

“Who doesn’t?”

Stiles nods his head seriously. “You’d think some things would change after high school, but I have learned that some things never will: Lydia will always be on-again, off-again with Jackson, and thus I will never be rid of him; I won’t ever understand their relationship; and I will never stop hating Jackson. You know his dad kept suing the school, after Scott got bitten by that rogue alpha and was suddenly good at lacrosse? He said there should be separate werewolf and human teams, that it was the supernatural version of steroids.”

“Total asshole,” Derek says, and wow- he is very close to Stiles. Like, can count the number of Stiles’ very long eyelashes _close_. “Did you know that Jackson petitioned to get the bite?”

Stiles eyes widen, his smile suddenly delighted. “What?! When?”

“Right before he turned 18. He sent in the application, but failed the psych eval.”

“That is so typical Jackson,” Stiles sighs, smile slipping. “Being a hypocritical jackass, but still somehow managing to make me feel sorry for him.”

Derek squeezes Stiles’ shoulder. “Sympathizing with Jackson Whittemore is just the cross you have to bear,” he deadpans.

Stiles shoves his Derek’s hand off, laughing. “Who knew? Under that silent, brooding exterior, you’re just kind of an asshole too.”

It’s a few rounds of drinks later when Lydia grabs Allison’s hand, pulling her to the stage for a surprisingly good duet of “Hard Out Here.” Erica’s a little wobbly when she, Isaac and Scott take the stage for an off-key, but very passionate rendition of “Hungry Like the Wolf.”

No amount of drinks would ever convince Derek or Boyd to sing karaoke, and Jackson still looks put-out that Lydia wanted to sing with Allison instead of him.

Near closing time, Lydia leans into Stiles and whispers something in his ear that Derek can’t quite make out. Stiles is pretty tipsy- his face is flushed, and his laughter has gotten more raucous as the night goes on, but apparently Stiles now thinks it’s a good idea to give singing a try. Derek stands to let Stiles out, and Stiles sways slightly into Derek’s space, giving him a quick smile before he walks over to the stage.

Derek has to stifle a laugh as soon as he hears the first notes. Stiles is rocking back and forth on his heels, eyes closed as he waits for the words to start, and when they do- “You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, when I met you,” he sings. Stiles isn’t a great singer by any stretch of the imagination, but he can carry the tune and dedicates himself to both parts of the duet, even managing to hit the high notes.

He finishes his song to polite applause from the rest of the bar patrons, and to wolf-whistles and enthusiastic applause from their group. Stiles bows from behind the microphone, beaming before he heads off stage, and Derek finds himself with a warm feeling when Stiles directs that smile at him.

*

Stiles wakes up in a bed that isn’t his own. He panics for a moment, flailing upright- only to be stopped immediately by his pounding headache, and he groans.

“Stiles,” the voice to his left says- and of course it’s Scott, his words muffled from where his face is buried in his pillow. “Stop moving.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Stiles rolls out of Scott’s bed. He’s fully clothed, which, gross, but his immediate concern is finding his shoes. “Do you think we’re getting too old for sleepovers?”

Scott grunts. “Don’ care- just shhhh…”

Stiles grins at Scott, but gets his shoes on quietly and heads downstairs to raid Scott’s fridge.

“Morning Stiles,” Isaac says, looking far too well put-together considering how much he drank last night as he gets the dogs’ food ready.

“Shit, sorry Isaac- didn’t mean to kick you out of your boyfriend’s bed.”

Isaac grimaces. “Stiles, I would never want to get between whatever your _thing_ is. If that means me sleeping on the couch when you pass out before our cab can get you home, then so be it.”

Stiles snorts. This is why he likes Isaac- he makes a lot of sarcastic jokes, but deep down, Stiles knows that Isaac just _gets_ people. He’s kind of like Scott that way, except Isaac buries his people skills and heart of gold under layers of snark and scarves.

Plus, Isaac and Scott are one of those ridiculous couples with a disgustingly cute backstory. Like, Stiles already knows what he would say in his best man’s speech at their wedding.

He’d say that in high school, Scott had gotten bitten by a rogue alpha cruising through Beacon Hills and suffering from some serious bloodlust when he had taken a bite out of Scott. Stiles would probably skip the part about how the Argents, professional werewolf bounty hunters, had come to Beacon Hills looking for the alpha, and that Scott found himself madly in love with Allison Argent. Allison’s family acquiesced to her demands that she be allowed to finish high school at BHHS, and despite the fact that Allison and Scott broke up less than a year later, she stayed.

Anyway, the Scott-and-Isaac Saga would pick up in late sophomore year, when Scott joined the lacrosse team. Scott’s werewolfy skills suddenly put him on the entire school’s radar- but unbeknownst to Scott, he had already had one admirer from afar for years.

While Scott enjoyed being in the limelight of his newfound popularity, he never really _saw_ Isaac. Not when Isaac joined the lacrosse team the year that Scott made first line. Not when Scott got transferred into Isaac’s art class and took the seat in front of him. Not even when Erica practically assaulted Scott in a botched attempt to make him literally fall in Isaac’s lap during lunch.

Truthfully, Stiles can’t blame Scott- Stiles had next to no idea who Isaac was when they were in high school, apart from being the quiet kid who spent even more time on the bench than Stiles did. Isaac never showed up to any of the parties that lacrosse players got default invites to, never stayed for post-game celebrations, and definitely never lingered in the locker room long enough for anyone to see bruises that shouldn’t have belonged on someone who saw so little game time.

Anyway, Isaac’s unrequited crush on Scott was small potatoes in the grand scheme of Isaac’s craptastic high school life story. Getting emancipated, living with the Reyes family, receiving the bite- Isaac’s entire life changed after high school. Scott left for college, got his 4-year degree, and moved back to Beacon Hills to work at Deaton’s office while getting his veterinarian’s degree. Scott was on campus at BHU when he ran into Isaac, still an undergrad, and recognized him from lacrosse days.

An ecstatic Scott had immediately called Stiles. “Dude. Guess who grew up way awesome, and also _way hot_.”

And that had been it, really. Cue adorable dates, a _lot_ of things Stiles wish he could unsee (which had turned into Stiles getting his own damn apartment because there are things you don’t need to know about your best friend), and a scary amount of Hale pack bonding. Long story short: Isaac’s loved Scott forever, and now Scott loves Isaac and they’re both shiny happy people.

“Oh, hey, while I remember- are you busy next Friday?” Isaac asks, pouring two mugs of coffee.

“Uh- I don’t think so? Why?” Stiles is immediately suspicious- Isaac never does nice things for Stiles without getting to complain first.

“Laura asked me to babysit, but I’ve got a midterm Saturday morning and I can’t do it,” Isaac says with a casual shrug.

“So, what? You need me to cover for you?” Isaac nods, wrapping his hands around the mug. “I don’t know that Laura’s gonna trust me with her kids, dude. There’s a reason she’s never asked me to babysit.”

Isaac shakes his head quickly. “Already checked with her, she deemed you a suitable substitute.” He shoots Stiles a grin. “Besides, the kids are old enough now that Laura doesn’t have to worry about your spastic dropping habits.”

“I am not a _dropper_ Isaac. God you’re the _worst_ , and you’ve been watching too many Friends reruns,” Stiles huffs, setting his mug by the sink. “I’m heading out, tell Scott bye for me.”

“Bye Stiles,” Isaac calls as Stiles gets to the door. “I’ll tell Laura you’re good for next Friday!”

*

“Okay, so I put snacks in the fridge, got some of their favorites games out- Cary! Stop pulling your sister’s hair! And there are books, for when Lilah’s ready to sleep-”

“Laura,” Derek says, trying to insert as much calm authority into his voice as possible. “I’ve done this before- Lilah and Cary and I will be _fine_.”

Laura nods at him distractedly, going back to obsessively checking the food packed into tupperware containers and ducking into the living room, where Cary and Lilah are watching TV.

“Rob and I probably won’t be back until late, so obviously you feel free to crash on the couch,” Laura says, smiling knowingly at Derek.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Derek asks, eyebrow raised. “It’s freaking me out.” Before she can answer, the doorbell rings, and her grin only grows. “Who’s that?”

“Backup,” Laura answers, opening the front door with a flourish, where Stiles is standing on her doorstep. “Stiles!” she greets warmly, pulling him in by the hand.

“Hey Laura,” Stiles says, looking slightly bewildered. Laura has that effect on people. “Hi Derek.”

Derek gives him a quick smile. “Laura roped you into free labor too?”

“I’m just the stand-in, Isaac bailed.”

“He’s been doing that a lot lately, getting downright flaky,” Derek says, and Stiles laughs.

Laura clears her throat from by the door, looking from Stiles to Derek. “Well,” she says, “I’ve gotta go meet Rob- don’t get too wild, you crazy kids.” Laura bends to hug Lilah and give Cary a loud kiss on the cheek, earning her a disgusted “Mom!”, and then she’s out the door.

“So,” Stiles says, rocking back on his heels as he stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets. “How good are you with kids? Because I’m pretty sure I’m just- not.”

“I’m bad with kids generally, good with these two. Don’t worry.” Derek bumps his shoulder lightly against Stiles’. “They don’t bite. Well, actually that’s not technically true, I suppose- Cary won’t bite, at least. Lilah will most certainly gnaw on you if you give her the chance.” Stiles visibly shudders, and Derek has to stifle the urge to laugh.

Stiles starts what looks like a tactical retreat to the kitchen. “Well, I think I’ll just-”

“Stiles!” Cary calls, swiveling around from his position in front of the TV. “What do you do for your job?”

“I’m- I’m a librarian,” Stiles says, visibly thrown, but at least he’s stopped backing away from the kids like they’re wild animals.

Cary’s eyes widen at Stiles’ answer. “So you get to work with books? All day?” he asks, with all the unimpeded wonder of a six year-old.

Stiles gives Cary a wide smile, shuffling closer as some of the tension visibly seeps from his shoulders. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I do.” He takes a look at the small pile of books stacked up by the TV, kneeling down next to Cary. “These yours?” Stiles asks, gesturing to the books, and Cary nods. “I _love_ dinosaurs.”

Derek has to bite back a smile when he sees the brilliant grin Cary gives Stiles. There’s a gentle tug on his pants leg, and when Derek looks down Lilah is looking up at him earnestly.

“What’s up princess?” he asks, scooping her up quickly to hear her giggle.

“Can we wrestle?” she asks, beaming at him toothily.

“No claws,” he says, warningly, and Lilah nods solemnly as he sets her down. “Wrestling” with a four year-old mostly consists of Derek crouching and letting Lilah bowl him over with her fledgling wolf strength, then lifting her up until she wriggles her way free. Lilah is squealing in his grip when Cary re-enters the room, tugging an amused Stiles behind him. When Cary sees them, he drops Stiles’ hand and promptly jumps on Derek’s chest.

“Oof.” Derek almost drops Lilah, and sort of awkwardly dumps her on Cary, who’s currently trying to find that one ticklish spot on Derek’s ribs and this is exactly why Laura can’t be trusted- she has already weaponized her children against him.

Stiles is leaning on the wall of to the side, laughing into his palm. “Little help here?” Derek grunts, but Stiles just throws his hands up in surrender.

There’s a sharp pain in his shoulder, and Derek yelps. “Lilah! I said no claws!”

“Wasn’t my claws,” Lilah says innocently, “was my teeth.” She grins with her fangs elongated.

Stiles laughs, but pushes off the walls, ostensibly to help. He reaches down to grab Lilah around the middle, but she lets out a delighted shriek and uses all of her not inconsiderable strength to pull Stiles down into their pile of limbs.

Stiles tries his best to extricate himself, done mostly by elbowing Derek in the stomach, and ends up laying on his back next to Derek. “I take back anything nice I have ever said about your sister,” Stiles whispers harshly. “She is the devil incarnate, and her children are her demonic offspring.”

“Not gonna fight you there,” Derek says as Lilah bounces off of him and onto Stiles, who ends up clutching her in a full-bodied hug. Cary goes to join her, rounding on Stiles’ other side. Derek times his move, ready to roll over and across Stiles, grabbing Lilah and Cary- but they duck out of his grasp at the last second, leaving Derek, well, sprawled on top of Stiles.

“Hi,” Stiles says, expression a little dazed as he looks up at Derek. There’s a flush running up his cheeks, and his hair is ruffled from where Lilah’s been pulling on it. Derek has the urge to smooth it back into some semblance of style. He wonders idly if Stiles has soft hair- he looks like the kind that would have soft hair.

“Right- sorry,” Derek says, pulling himself up and offering Stiles a hand.

“Thanks.” Stiles grins at him, straightening his hoodie. “If you’ll excuse me,” he says, before he takes off running after Cary.

Lilah trots back over to Derek, making grabby hands at him until he picks her up. “Dinner now?” she asks hopefully. Derek nods, walking her into the kitchen and setting her on the counter while he pulls Laura’s mac and cheese out of the fridge.

A minute later, Stiles jogs in with Cary on his back, gleefully digging his heels into Stiles’ sides. “Alright, down cowboy,” Stiles says, dumping Cary into a chair at the table.

“Can we have chicken nuggets too?” Cary asks.

Stiles looks to Derek, who shrugs. “Sure thing. I think I can handle cooking as complicated as microwaving,” Stiles says, rummaging through the freezer until he finds the box. Derek gets out plates and glasses while Stiles manages microwaving in shifts (“it’s all in the timing, Derek”), and they execute a synchronized dance of food prep through the kitchen. Stiles hip-checks Derek as he goes to pour Cary milk while Derek is grabbing juice for Lilah; it all feels weirdly domestic. Stiles’ earlier wariness has vanished. Cary adores him- Derek can practically see the cartoon hearts in his eyes when he looks at Stiles- and Lilah’s almost always suspicious of anyone who isn’t pack, but she doesn’t shy away when Stiles goes to lift her off the counter.

“Is there any food for us?” Stiles asks when Lilah and Cary are happily eating and bickering at the table.

“Yeah- figured we could eat after they go to bed. Is that okay with you?” Stiles nods, and smiles when Derek hands him a bag of chips.

After dinner, Lilah has Derek read to her, while Cary wants to show Stiles his velociraptor puzzle. Stiles gives Cary his full attention while Cary lists off his encyclopedic knowledge dinosaur facts, and Derek can’t help but smile when Stiles asks for Cary’s help finding the right puzzle pieces.

Lilah starts dropping off shortly thereafter, resting her head on Derek’s shoulder while muttering sleepily that she’s not tired. Derek brushes a hand through her hair. She reminds him of Cora at this age. Lilah dozes off right there, letting out a soft growl in her sleep, and yeah- totally Cora. He tilts her head into the crook of his neck, standing gingerly so as not to jostle her. Derek shoots a glance over to where Stiles is listening thoughtfully to Cary, chin in hand. Like he senses that Derek is watching him, Stiles looks up, giving Derek a lopsided grin.

Once Lilah’s asleep and tucked in, Derek pads back out to the living room. Cary’s still talking a mile a minute, but his words are slurring together now and he’s swaying into Stiles’ space. Stiles smiles at Cary indulgently, propping him up with an arm.

“Hey bud,” Derek says, kneeling beside Cary. “You ready for bed?”

Cary shakes his head vehemently. “No, ‘m not tired.”

“Sure you aren’t, Care-Bear.” Cary whines at the nickname. “Let’s go,” he says, scooping Cary up in his arms and dropping him off in the bathroom. “Brush your teeth- I’ll be back in a minute.”

Derek leaves Cary in the bathroom before checking to make sure Lilah’s door is closed. Stiles is standing in the hallway, looking like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “Need some help?” he asks.

“Sure. Let’s get Cary,” Derek says. He opens the door to the bathroom, where Cary is leaning against the sink, toothbrush in his open mouth, snoring loudly.

Stiles smothers a laugh behind his hand. “We better get him before he chokes on toothpaste.”

Derek wakes Cary up and helps him rinse his mouth out, but it’s Stiles’ hand Cary takes when they lead him back to his bedroom, and it’s Stiles that Cary lets pick which stuffed animal Cary will sleep with. Derek knows he can be a little- territorial, when it comes to his family. When Lilah was three, she said that Isaac was her favorite uncle. Laura had laughed herself sick looking at Derek’s sulking face; he would deny it, but she took pictures, and they were kind of irrefutable. So now, when Derek sees Cary playing favorites with Stiles, he fully expects that same childish jealousy to rear its ugly head- but it doesn’t. He watches Stiles carefully place the plushie pterodactyl in Cary’s arm, and all he feels is a spreading warmth in his chest, and Derek smiles.

Stiles quietly shuts the door behind him when they leave Cary’s room. “Food now?” Stiles asks, and he looks so eager that Derek huffs out a quiet laugh.

“Yeah, food now.” They head to the kitchen, and Derek manages to find enough food to cobble together a passable meal.

Derek sits next to Stiles on the couch, watching old episodes of Iron Chef while they eat.

“Your niece and nephew are cool,” Stiles says, idly running his fingers across the couch cushion.

“They’re alright,” Derek says. He takes in the way Stiles is smiling sort of shyly, eyes cast down. “Cary seems to like you a lot.”

“I guess so. It’s- I don’t know, I guess it’s just kinda cool when kids like me.”

“Why? Kids love you- Scott’s evidence of that.”

Stiles laughs, shoving Derek’s arm. “Jerk. We were totally having a nice moment and you had to go and ruin it. Besides, you can’t _even_ make fun of me for being friends with Scott- I’m not the one who was obsessed with him when he and Isaac started dating.”

“I was not _obsessed_ with him!” Derek scoffs, lightly shoving Stiles back.

“You so were.”

Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles’ blatant needling. “I wanted him to come play pick-up games of baseball with us, Stiles. Hardly grounds for a restraining order.”

Stiles clutches a hand to his chest, all mock-indignation. “And you didn’t invite _me_! I’ll have you know, I am very good at baseball. I know my way around a bat.”

“As much as I would love to see you attempt hand-eye coordination, I feel like the fact that all the other players are werewolves might put you at a slight disadvantage.” Derek pauses, long enough to register Stiles’ brief flash of disappointment, quickly hidden by a smile. “But if you’re willing to have your ass handed to you, I guess you could play with us sometime.”

“Let me guess- I have to bring Scott if I want into your special werewolf baseball camp?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, and his smile is genuine now, and slightly bashful. “Okay.”

It’s quiet between them for a minute, just the sound of Alton Brown chattering in the background. Derek knows he’s been more successful with talking to Stiles than usual, so he decides to push his luck. “So… I thought- maybe sometime, I would take Cary to the Natural History Museum, let him see dinosaurs and stuff. Thought maybe you’d want to come with us?”

“Yeah?” Stiles asks. “That’d be great! I love that place.”

They’re mostly quiet after that, full and tired from chasing Lilah and Cary, but they speak in hushed voices as the reruns of Iron Chef turn into old episodes of Chopped. Derek feels himself getting sleepy, turning off the TV at one point but making no move to get up. Instead he sinks back into the couch, and Stiles’ head lolls onto his shoulder- already asleep. Derek should wake him. He should. Stiles would probably want to go home, but it’s late and it can’t be safe to drive when you’re that tired. So Derek lets Stiles sleep on him, laying his head against the back of the couch as his eyes drift shut- the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat a soothing rhythm that lulls him to sleep.

*

Stiles wakes up slowly to a dark room with a painful crick in his neck. The first thing he notices is that he is definitely not in his house. The second thing he notices is that he is laying on a very comfortable person. Said person snuffles in their sleep, and Stiles turns slightly to look, and- yup, it’s Derek. Because what Stiles needs in his life right now is a sleeping Derek Hale, who is apparently _adorable_ while resting, his chin tucked in and nose practically nestled in Stiles’ hair. It’s unfair, is what it is. It’s not like Stiles has never noticed that Derek’s attractive- he has _eyes_ , but he just used to be silent, grumpy Derek who wouldn’t give Stiles the time of day. Now he’s- well, he’s still kind of grumpy, but he’s also this smart, weirdly thoughtful guy who buys Stiles carnival food and wrestles with his tiny werewolf niece. As if _that_ hadn’t been torturous- having Derek land on him, trying not to think inappropriate thoughts about all the much more fun ways he could have Derek on top of him.

Stiles tries to slide out from under the arm Derek has casually thrown over Stiles’ shoulders, studiously ignoring the pleasant feeling of being Derek’s personal snuggle buddy. He’s almost free when Derek lets out this pathetic little _whine_ , and without waking up, tries to move into the space Stiles is vacating. Stiles can’t help but smile in the dark. He grabs a few pillows, stacking them into an approximation of his size and pushing them into Derek’s side. Derek makes a small frown in his sleep, but stops trying to follow Stiles’ warmth and instead sinks into the pillows.

Stiles finds his keys in the entryway, his shoes behind the couch, and in a few minutes he’s ready. He checks his phone- it’s nearly six, and as he’s leaving the house he texts Laura to let her know that everything’s good.

He’s just parking the jeep when his phone rings.

“Hey Laura.”

“Stiles. How’d it go last night?”

“Good, yeah. Lilah’s a sweetheart, Cary and I are like two peas in a pod- it was fun.”

“And Derek?” she asks.

“You’re worried about Derek? Not your children?”

“You just told me my kids are fine, Stiles, stop changing the subject. How was your time with Derek?”

“You’re being weird. Weirder than usual. It was fine, Laura,” Stiles says, letting himself into his apartment and toeing off his shoes.

“Just fine?”

“No, I mean- it was good. Derek’s… cool.” He grimaces- ‘cool’? No way is Laura is letting that word choice slip.

“Stiles,” she says, and he swears he can hear her smirk over the phone. “No one has ever, and I mean _ever_ , called my brother cool.”

“Okay, well it’s been great talking to you Laura, I gotta go-”

“Stiles, do not hang up on me!”

“Bye Laura!” he says, hanging up on an indignant squawk from her end. He will undoubtedly have to pay for that later.

As an afterthought, Stiles decides to text Derek- just to reassure him that Stiles wasn’t like, abducted in the night or something.

**hey left while you were asleep. it’s stiles btw, i got your number from scott.**

It’s a few minutes before he gets the reply, and his brain supplies him with an unwanted image of sleep-rumpled Derek rubbing his eyes and looking around in confusion. Even in his brain Derek’s fucking ridiculously cute.

**Right. Didn’t want to wake you last night, you were really tired.**

Huh. Weirdly thoughtful Derek strikes again.

**thanks. see you around?**

**Definitely.**

After that, it’s a thing- the texting. Derek may not always be the most talkative in person, but via text he’s downright _chatty_. Chatty to the point that Stiles might have been suspicious that one of their friends had stolen Derek’s phone and was doing the texting for him were it not for the perfect grammar and capitalization. This is how Stiles learns that Derek’s favorite TV show is LOST, that he doesn’t like soda because he thinks carbonation is gross, and how Derek calls Cora every week while she’s studying abroad in Brazil.

Not that Stiles never sees Derek in person- quite the opposite. The sheer number of times Stiles runs into Derek seems to be edging into the improbable. 

Stiles is setting up a romance novels display, complete with Valentine’s Day decorations when Derek brings Cary to the library one afternoon. Cary holds a tupperware full of brownies that he presents proudly, saying “They’re Mom’s secret recipe!”

Cary gets distracted by a colorful books display, and Derek on Stiles’ desk. “The secret is that _I_ make them,” he says with a smirk.

Then there’s the time Stiles runs into Derek at the grocery store he always shops at. Derek greets him with a surprised smile.

“Hey man, what are you doing here?”

Derek holds up a carton of specialty ice cream in answer. “Laura demanded it- said they only sell it here.”

So that was a little… odd. The way Derek seems to just _appear_ places where Stiles is. And then when their whole group hangs out, it seems like he and Derek get lumped together all the time, in increasingly ridiculous ways.

It’s one of these instances, when Stiles is driving Lydia home from group bowling, that things come to a head.

“I don’t care what you say Lyds, ‘couples bowling’ is not a thing!”

“If it isn’t a real thing Stiles, then what did we just do?” she asks, sounding bored as she looks at her hair in a pocket mirror.

Stiles sighs, exasperated. “We just did an activity that you made up, for some nefarious purpose that I haven’t discovered yet!”

Lydia rolls her eyes. “You’re paranoid,” she says as Stiles pulls up in front of her house.

“I am not _paranoid_ Lydia! You’re the ones who are totally fucking with me- with us! You can’t say that this last month has been a series of weird, random happenstances!” Lydia ignores him, moving to open the car door, but before she can reach it Stiles hits the driver’s side lock. “No. No getting out of the car until you admit that you’ve had a hand in this.”

“Fine,” Lydia says, arms crossed, leveling Stiles with her glare that effectively says _I could crush you under my heel and I don’t know why I like you_. “We’ve been trying to set you and Derek up in time for Valentine’s Day.”

“What?!” he shrieks. “I mean- what?” he repeats, in a more reasonable tone.

“Scott, Isaac, Allison and I- we’ve been trying to set you two up since right after New Year’s. Oh, and Erica helped a little too.”

Stiles thinks back over the events of the last what- five weeks? Oh god, five weeks, that’s when-

“The movie theater! I _knew_ it- you never turn off your phone!”

“Nice detective work, Stiles. Can I get out of the car now? These pleather seats are wrinkling my skirt.”

“No, I- I don’t understand why! Why would you go to these lengths- I’m guessing that the karaoke was also you. That whole carnival thing seems more like Scott’s idea, but I’m thinking you and Erica helped. Laura’s in on this too, right? No way was the babysitting an accident- and the ice cream!” He knows he’s gesturing wildly, and Lydia is giving him her most unimpressed look. “ _So_ much of my life makes sense now,” Stiles says, throwing himself back into his seat. “But- why? Was this you guys screwing with us?” he asks, his voice suddenly small.

“Stiles, no,” Lydia says, in her closest approximation to a soothing tone. “No one was screwing with you, we- we just thought you guys would be good together, if you ever had a chance to get to know each other.”

“Oh. Thats… sweet, actually. In an overbearing, super creepy way.”

“We are nothing if not overbearing and a little creepy, you know this,” Lydia says, looking like Stiles gave her a compliment. “Now let me out of this damn car, before I have to come up with a creative way to eviscerate you.”

Stiles can’t help but shiver- Lydia’s fucking terrifying- and unlocks her door. She scoops up her purse, turning on the seat to face Stiles. “Just so you know, Scott and Isaac have one more fake-date planned for you and Derek. I guess that since you know now, you can avoid it,” she says, slamming the car door behind her as she leaves with a knowing smile.

Stiles rolls the passenger window down. “You’re joking right?” he calls after her. “Please tell me you’re joking! Lydia!”

Turns out, Lydia wasn’t joking.

“Wine-tasting, Scott? Seriously? You don’t even like wine!”

“But Isaac does,” Scott says, his voice creeping into whining territory, “and it’s my Valentine’s Day gift to him, but I don’t know jack shit about wine which is why you and Derek have to come with us.”

“That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.” Stiles sits at Scott’s dining table and Scott follows, the dogs pawing at his legs and Stiles reaches down to absently scratch at whichever dog is nearest. This is apparently what happens when you come over for casual bro-time: your best friend tries to trick you into going on pseudo-dates. Scott’s not always the sneakiest; Stiles is a little disappointed that it took him over a month to figure out something was up.

“It is not _lame_ ,” Scott says, sounding legitimately offended.

“It’s very lame, Scott. Of all your attempted set-ups for me and Derek, this one is the most transparent.” Stiles has to pause in what was building up to a tirade, as Rufus, their golden retriever, jumps up on his lap.

“W-what?!” Scott splutters. “I- I _never_ -”

“Lydia already told me.”

“Oh,” Scott says, visibly deflating. “Yeah. It’s a set-up.”

“Mhm. So how was this whole thing supposed to work, exactly?” Stiles asks. Scott looks kind of miserable at being found out, but Stiles is fine admitting that he’s enjoying needling Scott a little.

“I thought you talked to Lydia already?”

“Yeah, but you know Lyds- she can be concise when you least want her to be.”

Scott nods. “Okay, so like, it’s not really that big a deal-”

“Feels like a kinda big deal Scotty,” Stiles says, lifting an eyebrow.

“Fine, fine, okay. So around Christmas, d’you remember how Lydia had just broken up with Jackson, again, and she was like, getting over her breakup by planning stuff?” Stiles nods. Lydia’s coping techniques are a known threat. “Anyway, Isaac and I were hanging out with Lydia and Allison, and Lydia had this idea that you and Derek would sort of hit it off if you were forced to hang out enough. And then it turned into, like, a team thing?”

“ _Teams_?!” Scott at least has the decency to wince at this. “You had _teams_??”

“Only sort of! Isaac and I would come up with an idea, and then Lydia and Allison would come up with one. It wasn’t supposed to be mean, we just wanted to see if you’d end up liking each other! You know, you’re both really into books, and you’re sarcastic-”

“So you just decided to make that you’d be our own personal Match.com?” Stiles asks, and it comes out more harshly than he means to.

“I mean, I guess, if you want to put it like that,” Scott says, his face falling, and _now_ Stiles kind of feels like shit. Putting a frown on Scott McCall’s face is never a good feeling. “I get it if you’re mad.”

Stiles sighs. “I’m not, really,” he says, leaning towards Scott and gripping his shoulder. “I know you all meant well. Actually, no. I know _you_ meant well, and Allison probably did too- Lydia almost certainly did not, and I don’t know about Isaac, your boyfriend’s kinda shady.”

“Isaac’s not shady,” Scott mutters. “Anyway, we only did it ‘cause we love you guys, and we want you to be happy.” He looks so earnest; that’s like Scott’s superpower: honestly caring about people. Well, superpower other than the werewolf stuff.

“You make it really impossible to be mad at you.” Scott gives him a wide, crinkle-eyed smile, and Stiles can’t resist getting up and hugging Scott tightly.

“Love you,” Scott says, voice slightly muffled into Stiles’ shirt.

“Yeah, I love you too buddy.” Stiles pulls back, giving Scott a quick pat on the back.

“So… I guess this means you aren’t coming on the wine-tasting trip?” Scott asks. “It was gonna be so good- this was our best idea. We were gonna go through this whole wine-tasting thing, and we specifically bought the wine-tasting tour for couples, so you two would hang out together-oh! And then Isaac’s idea! The B&B, _dude_ , we would’ve gotten there and we only had two rooms, you know- ‘on accident’- and then you guys would have had to share a room and it was gonna be _so good_.”

“Wow, that- sounds, uh…yeah.” Stiles is at a loss for words. He wants to say that it sounds stupid, that he would’ve suffered through it, but- but it sounds _fun_. “I mean… you already spent the money on the tickets. It’d be a shame for them to go to waste.”

Scott barks out a laugh. “ _Sure_ , now you wanna come with us?” Scott pauses for a moment, giving Stiles a curious look. “You don’t- oh my god! You like Derek!!”

“...Maybe.”

Scott’s openly cackling now, bouncing with a puppy-like excitement. “I can’t believe this! It actually worked?? Oh man, this is awesome! Which date was it- one of mine and Isaac’s? Or one of Lydia and Allison’s?!”

Stiles feels his face flush. “I don’t know,” he says, waving his hands aimlessly. “I guess- I guess it was probably the night Laura asked us to babysit?”

“Awww, dude, no! That one was Laura’s idea!”

“Laura was part of your plan too?”

“Nah, she just figured out what we were doing and wanted some free labor.”

Stiles shrugs. “Sounds like Laura.”

“For real though? You and Derek- you like him?” Scott asks, giving Stiles a thoughtful look and a half-smile that Stiles finds himself returning.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Dude!” Scott nearly-shouts, clapping Stiles on the arm. “Are you gonna tell him? You have to tell him.”

“I… will. Eventually. But before I do, don’t tell him, alright?”

“Of course. I got your back,” Scott says, beaming.

“And, uh, as far as this wine-tasting idea goes, what are the odds you think you could still get Derek to agree to go?”

“Without telling him about the set-ups?” Stiles nods, and Scott’s smile widens. “It’s in the bag.”

*

“I’m still not sure how you convinced me to do this,” Derek says dumbly, holding his overnight bag loosely.

“You’ve said that a few times,” Isaac says, tugging the bag from Derek’s grip and tossing it in the trunk of his car.

“And I’ll keep saying it, because I’m still not entirely sure how I got here.” 

Isaac gives him a patronizing smile, throwing an arm around Derek’s shoulders as he pulls him towards the open passenger’s door. “It’s not all that surprising- you fell to my superior powers of persuasion. Come on, it’s at least an hour drive- I’ll even let you pick music.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but smile. “How generous of you.”

Isaac’s driving is- well, _reckless_ is a harsh word. Harsh, but accurate.

“Is there a reason we couldn’t have waited for Scott and Stiles?” Derek asks, his voice strangled as Isaac takes a hard turn. “Stiles drives! Stiles has a car and when he drives I don’t feel like I’m in danger of having my limbs rearranged- _the light is yellow Isaac! Slow down!_ ”

Isaac laughs, but thankfully he eases off the gas. “Because Scott and Stiles are both working today, and I wanna go check in early. Besides, it’s wine country, you’ll love it dude!”

“Did you just call me ‘dude’?” Derek says with disgust. “Scott’s rubbing off on you.”

Isaac’s grin grows wide and dangerous. “Oh, something’s definitely _rubbing off_ -”

“Stop, no, just no.” Derek groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and ignoring Isaac’s self-satisfied smirk.

Isaac claps a hand on Derek shoulder. “Aww, don’t be mopey, Derek! Just ‘cause Scott and Stiles have to work for a few more hours doesn’t mean you and I can’t enjoy a little quality time together- we’ll check into the bed and breakfast, enjoy wine country! It’ll be fun!”

“As long as you don’t get us killed first- _that is a stop sign!_ ”

The car jerks to a halt when Isaac slams on the brakes. “You know, for someone born with supernatural healing powers, you sure do worry a lot.”

“I worry an appropriate amount. You shouldn’t even have a license.”

“Don’t be like that, Derek. Just because you’re all alone, and it’s almost Valentine’s Day, there’s no need to take it out on the happily coupled.” 

Derek grimaces. “I don’t give a shit about Valentine’s Day.”

“Uh huh.”

“I _don’t_ , Isaac. I’m not the only one whose single on Valentine’s Day. Stiles is single too.”

Isaac raises an eyebrow, shoots him a look, and- oh no. Derek knows that look. That look never means good things for Derek. “Lydia and Allison are single too. Well, Allison definitely is- you never really know with Lydia and Jackson.”

“Exactly,” Derek says, “most of our friends aren’t in a relationship, so why would it bother me that I’m not?”

Isaac holds up a hand. “But you only said that _Stiles_ was single.”

“So?” Derek asks, feeling his brow furrow in confusion.

“I just find it interesting that Stiles is the first person you think to mention, is all.”

“It’s not _interesting_ ,” Derek says. “It’s the opposite of interesting. We’ve just been hanging out a lot lately, so I thought of him.” Isaac’s smile is positively terrifying. “What? Why are you giving me that smile- it’s creepy.”

“You _like_ him. You like Stiles!”

“I- what? How did- what?”

“This is great!” Isaac’s drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, eyes wide and grin wider. “I can’t believe it worked!”

“I don’t- what worked?” Derek asks. He’s feeling the beginning of a stress headache coming on- talking to Isaac can be challenging.

“The dates! You know- all those times in the last month or so where you and Stiles have just been in the same place at the same time, and have been conveniently alone,” Isaac says, waggling his fingers.

“Those- all those times?! That was _you_?” Derek’s not sure if he should be angry- he is, sort of. He doesn’t like being kept out of the loop on things, _really_ doesn’t like surprises, but the way Isaac looks sort of, well- proud of himself takes the heat from Derek’s words.

“Not just me. Also Scott. And Allison and Lydia. It was a group effort- wanted to see if we could get you guys together before Valentine’s Day.”

“Of course it was,” Derek says, dropping his head onto the dashboard. Maybe if he does it hard enough, he can concuss himself, werewolf healing be damned. “And I’m guessing this wine country trip- not actually your Valentine’s getaway with Scott?”

“Oh no, it is. That’s why you guys are only coming with us for tonight- you can drive back tomorrow, and Scott and I can still spend a very romantic Valentine’s Day alone.”

“How generous of you,” Derek says, muffled from where his face is sort of mashed into the dashboard. 

Isaac shrugs. “We just thought- I don’t know. We love both of you guys, and thought that you’d hit it off if we made the effort for you. Not saying you can’t handle your own romantic life or anything, but it’s just- we just want you and Stiles to be happy. And if you’re happy together, then we’ll just be happy for you.” This is just like Isaac; a vaguely creepy gesture that still somehow manages to be full of affection and good intentions. Derek knows Isaac’s never been the best at showing he cares, and Derek can relate to that. Isaac clears his throat. “And, uh, since we’re doing honesty hour... I probably ought to tell you that you and Stiles are sharing a room tonight,” he says casually, like this isn’t the most important piece of information he’s dropped thus far.

“What?!” Derek squawks.

“Yeah, I know- you owe me. This is perfect! You can totally make your move now,” Isaac says, shooting Derek a grin before turning his eyes back to the road.

Derek’s distracted by the thought of sharing a room with Stiles for the rest of the ride. He doesn’t realize how distracted he was until they’re at the B&B, and Isaac mentions that Derek didn’t complain about his driving for the entire last half hour.

*

Stiles puts the jeep in park and immediately pulls down the car visor above his head, making an involuntary whine when he sees his reflection in the mirror.

“God, Stiles, you look _fine_ ,” Scott sighs from the passenger’s seat, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I don’t look fine, Scott, I look- what did Laura put in my hair to make it stick up like this?!”

“It was just wax dude, chill.”

“I can’t believe she took me up on that dumb promise to let her dress me- that was like, a month ago!” Stiles tugs at the sleeves of the blazer Laura had forced him into this afternoon, when she’d pounded on his apartment door as he was packing, forcing him to stop what he was doing so she could use him as her human mannequin. “I look ridiculous,” he mutters, picking at the tight v-neck she’d wrestled him into. And if the shirt is tight, then the jeans are downright constricting- Stiles is unsure he’ll maintain circulation in his legs through the night.

“You don’t look ridiculous,” Scott says earnestly from the open trunk, grabbing Stiles’ bag as well as his own. “It’s a good look on you.”

“What look is that? Hip, douchebag son of a corporate tycoon? I look like an extra on Gossip Girl.” Scott snorts, yanking open Stiles’ door with the hand not carrying their bags. He doesn’t wait for Stiles to follow, and just starts up the stairs of the B&B after dumping Stiles’ bag in his lap. “Seriously Scott, Isaac and Derek are gonna mock the hell outta me,” Stiles says, locking the car and bounding after Scott.

“Hi, we’re with Isaac Lahey and Derek Hale- they should’ve checked in this morning,” Scott says, giving his best smile to the woman running the B&B. Predictably, she looks positively charmed, giving Scott their room numbers. When Scott declines any help carrying their bags, insisting that he’d hate for her to go to any trouble, Stiles is worried she might swoon.

Scott knocks on the door to his room, and Isaac answers immediately. “Hey babe,” he says, ducking in to kiss Scott. “Stiles.” Isaac smiles at him, nodding to the room next to theirs. “Derek should be in there already.”

“Thanks Isaac- when did you guys wanna leave?” Stiles asks.

“Uh- an hour, I-” Isaac breaks off when Scott leans in to whisper something in his ear, and Isaac blushes furiously. “Make it an hour and a half,” he says quickly, practically shoving Scott back into their room and closing the door. Stiles grimaces.

He’s standing outside the door to his shared room with Derek, fumbling for the key when the door swings open. “Heard you come in,” Derek says, leaning on the door frame. In worn jeans and a henley, Derek’s gorgeous, and Stiles is immediately hyper-aware of his own attire. He’s got to say something, _anything_ would be better than flushing and standing like an idiot in silence, but- Derek doesn’t look like he wants to laugh at him. He’s, well, he’s certainly _looking_ , but it’s more appreciative than anything else, gaze traveling slowly down and then back up.

Stiles knows he’s looking at Derek a little slack-jawed. At least he’s not self-conscious anymore. And he’s gonna have to give Laura a very, very long hug for this. 

“Sorry, uh- come in,” Derek says after a moment, moving to let Stiles follow him into the room.

“Scott said there was some mix-up with the rooms, and that you and I are sharing?” Stiles asks, remembering that Derek doesn’t know that this whole room-sharing experience is all a part of Scott’s master plan.

Derek looks confused for a moment before he nods with a slight smile. “Right, yeah, that’s what Isaac told me. No big deal, right?”

“Right.” Stiles drops his bag on the floor and throws himself on the bed, turning the TV on. Derek sits down next to his feet where they dangle over the edge of the bed, watching intently, his back stiff.

“You could lay down, if you want,” Stiles offers, scooting over to make room for Derek. 

Derek looks at Stiles, giving him a raised eyebrow. “You’ll wrinkle your jacket.”

Stiles grins. “It was Laura’s idea anyway.”

Derek smiles back, shrugs and lies down next to Stiles. They’re only a few inches apart, and Stiles is aware of the heat Derek’s giving off next to him- even when he can’t see Derek moving, he can feel it, and it’s a weirdly comforting sensation. They idly chat; Stiles gives more attention to the feeling of Derek next to him than whatever junk is on TV. 

Eventually, Scott knocks on their door to tell them to be ready in ten minutes, and Derek excuses himself to change. 

Stiles is brushing lint off his blazer when Derek returns. He looks completely at ease in dark jeans and a collared shirt with a gray sweater over it.

"Ready?" Derek asks. 

Stiles is slightly distracted by the cut of Derek's pants. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm good to go," Stiles replies, flushing at the smirk Derek's giving him, like he knows exactly what Stiles was looking at. 

Stiles and Derek meet Scott and Isaac at Isaac's car. "You're not driving," Derek says, pointing at Isaac. "Give the keys to Scott, I've had enough near-death experiences for one day." Isaac hands Scott the keys with a petulant huff, and the short drive to the vineyard is smooth. 

The vineyard is attached to a sizable stone house. “Welcome to McAdams’ Family Vineyards, I’m Tom,” says the man who greets them at the door. “Wine-tasting or vineyard tour?”

“Wine-tasting!” Scott says, excitement visible, and Tom gives a good-natured laugh, gesturing them inside the house. The room Tom takes them to has a bar along one wall and what appear to be members of the McAdams family meandering through the room, answering questions and chatting with guests. Once they’re through the doors Isaac grabs Scott’s hand and drags him off without sparing a glance for Stiles and Derek.

“So,” Stiles says, rubbing his hands together. “Ready to get a little tipsy?”

“Can’t,” Derek says, looking like he’s biting down on a smile. “It’s just regular alcohol- won’t affect Scott, Isaac or me.”

“Damn. Guess I’ll be the only one getting my drink on. You have to promise me though, take me out of here before I make a spectacle of myself, okay?”

“More than you usually do?”

“Oh, _ha_. The werewolf has jokes.”

“I try,” Derek says, leading Stiles towards the bar.

The woman tending bar is friendly, and introduces herself as Anne. “Have you folks been to a wine-tasting before?” she asks.

“No,” Stiles says at the same time Derek says, “yes.”

Anne laughs. “Okay then, well sir,” she turns towards Stiles. “Since it’s your first time, I have some recommendations for beginners- for someone more advanced,” she says, giving Derek a smile, “we have a variety and you’re free to choose as you’d like. Feel free to walk around the vineyard if you’d like. Are you gentlemen paying per taster glass, or are you on a group tab?”

Stiles looks to Derek, who raises his eyebrows. Derek has very communicative eyebrows.

“We’re on the McCall tab,” Stiles says, giving Anne his most winning smile.

“Sure thing.” Anne leaves to grab a pair of long-stemmed glasses, placing them on the bar in front of Stiles and Derek. “What’ll you start with?”

Derek looks to Stiles, and Stiles just shrugs in answer- he really has no idea what he’s doing here, so Derek orders a white wine for them with a name Stiles doesn’t catch.

“Was that even English?” he mutters, and Derek quirks a smile.

The wine is good, Scott’s paying, and conversation is easy. Derek takes tasting very seriously- he balances the glass, swirls it, and inhales carefully before his first sip. He gets this sort of blissed-out look on his face, which Stiles would tease him for, but in all honesty he really doesn’t want to be the reason that look goes away. And whereas Stiles just enjoys drinking his wine slowly, Derek swishes his drink around his mouth before spitting into the cup on the bar.

Stiles grimaces. “What?” Derek asks, catching his look of disgust.

“I know it’s normal, but also- kind of gross. You know you can’t get drunk, right? You haven’t lost your memory in the last hour?” Stiles asks, reaching over to pat Derek’s forehead in mock concern.

Derek scowls, but the effect is somewhat lost when the corner of his mouth twitches. “It’s to keep the later tastes from blending together.”

“Still looks gross,” Stiles says with a grin. 

“You two are sweet,” Anne says, smiling as she pours glasses for another couple down the bar.

Shit. Stiles had kinda forgotten about this being a couples event. People think he and Derek are a couple. Derek’s gonna _freak_. “Oh, we’re uh- we’re not-”

Anne waves a hand at them. “Don’t fuss about labels. Just telling you that you’re cute.”

Stiles feels his face heat. He ducks his head, sneaking a look at Derek, who looks- well, calm. Or at least, not panicking, which is- good.

“Do you wanna look around a little? It’s nice outside,” Stiles offers.

Derek nods, giving Stiles an amused smile, and they walk out to the wraparound porch that overlooks the entire vineyard. It’s warm for February, the sky is clear, and Stiles is a little buzzed.

“You okay?” Derek asks after they’ve been walking for a few minutes. “You seem quiet.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

Derek bumps his shoulder. “Weirded out by Anne thinking we’re together?”

Stiles scoffs. “No. ‘Course not.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed of me,” Derek says, giving Stiles a look that screams _challenge_.

“ _Me_? Embarrassed of _you_?! That’s dumb- you’re dumb.” Stiles knows he’s listing towards Derek, but can’t be bothered to right himself. “C’mere.” He grabs Derek’s hand, pulls him towards a man and a woman idly chatting. “Excuse me,” he says, “I’m Stiles.”

“Hi Stiles,” the woman answers, giving him and Derek a look of confusion

“And this is Derek!” Stiles gestures enthusiastically. “He’s with me,” he adds, smiling in what he hopes is a winning fashion. However, it’s also possible that he just looks manic.

“Nice to meet you both,” she says, looking like she’s trying not to laugh.

Derek tugs on Stiles’ hand, where their fingers are still tangled together. “Sorry, he’s a little excited. We won’t interrupt your evening any further.” When they’re a safe distance away, Derek leans in close, whispering, “That was _weak_.”

“Pssh- I’d like to see you do better. I was very convincing.”

“Yeah- a convincing dork.”

Stiles laughs. “I can’t believe you just called me a dork, you’re so lame.”

“You’re going down,” Derek says, giving Stiles a look of intent. He scans the room, seemingly finding what he’s searching for, because he’s smirking when he starts walking towards a group standing by the porch railing.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you, but would you mind getting a picture of us?” Derek asks a man in the group, ignoring Stiles’ look of surprise.

“Of course,” the man says, taking Derek’s phone.

“Over here, babe. We should get the vineyard in the background,” Derek says. He loops an arm around Stiles’ waist, pulling him snugly into his side.

“On three,” the guy with Derek’s phone says, but Stiles isn’t really paying him any attention- he’s rather distracted by the feeling of Derek this close to him, and he leans into Derek’s solid warmth.

“Told you I could outdo you,” Derek says, voice hushed so only Stiles can hear.

Stiles turns his face so his mouth is practically pressed against Derek’s ear. “I’ve got you beat,” he says. As the man says ‘one,’ Stiles kisses Derek gently on the cheek, and Derek inhales sharply.

“That was a good one.” The man hands Derek back his phone, who takes it with a quiet thanks. When Derek looks back at Stiles, he’s smiling softly, looking almost shy, and Stiles gives him a small smile in return.

“I’m, uh- gonna get some wine. You want me to get you a glass?” Derek asks, and Stiles nods. He leans back against the railing, tipping his head back to look at the sky.

“Hey buddy.” Stiles looks over to see Scott sidling up to him with a grin.

“Hey dude,” Stiles sighs.

“How’s it going? Everything good?”

“I don’t even know, Scotty. Somehow I ended up in a game of fake-dating chicken with Derek and I mostly wanna kiss him stupid.”

Scott wrinkles his nose. “Too much info.”

Stiles groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry man, but it’s like, he’s just so _hot_ , and we get along really well, and I just wanna-”

“Stiles, I wanna be supportive, but also I don’t think I can stomach hearing how you were gonna finish that sentence,” Scott says with a grimace.

“But don’t you want to hear it? This is your plan being a success!” Stiles leers, leaning in closer to Scott, who takes a matching step back. “We could talk about Derek’s face, his impressive muscles, his phenomenal ass-”

“Ugh, you’re the worst!” Scott scrambles away, leaving Stiles laughing by the railing. He’s still chuckling to himself when Derek reappears, glasses in hand.

Derek gives him a raised eyebrow. “You two are your own brand of weird,” he says, with a nod in the direction Scott’s just run off to.

Stiles shrugs and sniffs. “No need to be jealous, just because you don’t know this kind of love.”

“If I ever treat Isaac the way you treat Scott, have me committed.”

Stiles chuckles, bumping his shoulder into Derek’s as he takes a healthy sip of his wine.

A couple of hours and a few more glasses later, Stiles is back at the bar with Derek, nursing his wine leisurely. He’s leaning onto the bar and into Derek’s space, listening to the sound of Derek’s voice as he discusses fancy wine terminology with Anne. Derek idly swirls the wine around his glass, takes a sip, and spits into the cup to his right.

Stiles snorts, and Derek turns to him, eyebrow raised in question, sending Stiles into helpless giggles. “What?” Derek asks.

“It’s just-” Stiles bites down on a laugh, motioning Derek closer. “Haven’t you ever heard that spitters are quitters?” He says, devolving into laughter at the unimpressed look on Derek’s face.

“ _Okay_ , terrible innuendos, I think this is the cut-off point,” Derek says, making to stand. He reaches over, casually placing a hand on Stiles’s neck. He thumbs a circle on Stiles’ pulse, and Stiles leans into the touch involuntarily. “I’m gonna go find Scott and Isaac, so you just wait here- I’ll be back in a minute.”

Derek’s not back in a minute. Stiles doesn’t actually know how long he’s gone, but he’s had another two taster glasses by the time Derek’s back.

“Anne, can I call you Annie?” Stiles is lazily propped up on his elbows, his chin resting heavily in one palm.

“No, you can not,” Anne says with a huff. Stiles feels a warm weight on his shoulder, spins around to see Derek looking at him with an amused expression.

“Hi Derek,” Stiles says, and why on earth does he sound so _pleased_. Way to be transparent, Stiles.

Derek slides his hand down to Stiles’ wrist, tugs him up from his seat. “Come on, time to go.” Stiles feels loose and pliant- a drunken sort of drowsiness, and he falls into Derek’s side easily. He gives Derek a sunny smile, and after a second Derek returns it. “Let’s get you out of here,” Derek says quietly, and Stiles- well he’s not _that_ out of it, but if it’s bothering Derek that Stiles is leaning into him, he doesn’t say anything, just secures an arm more tightly around Stiles’ waist.

*

Derek steps out of the shower, scrubbing a towel through his hair and pulling on sweatpants. Stiles is starfished out on the bed, and Derek would think he’s asleep were it not for the sound of Stiles’ slightly too-fast heartbeat.

Stiles lifts his head up at the sound of the bathroom door opening. “C’mere,” Stiles beckons, waving Derek closer.

Derek drops on the bed next to him. “I see you managed to get your sleep pants on,” he says, and he can feel the corner of his mouth twitching up, turning into a full-blown grin when Stiles beams proudly, like Derek had given him a real compliment.

“You’re weird when you’re drunk,” Derek says, and he can hear how it sounds practically _fond_.

Stiles wrinkles his nose at that. “You’re not s’posed to say that- y’should say ‘m not weird.”

Derek can only blame Stiles’ adorable, drunken state for what he says next. “Maybe I like your weird self.”

Stiles’ face softens into a wide smile. “I wanna tell you something,” he whispers.

Derek bends closer. He tries to condition himself not to use his heightened senses on humans- it’s an unfair advantage, his mom says. But he can’t _not_ smell Stiles, when he’s right here and close and warm. Stiles smells like happiness, but muted, like contentment and there’s- oh. A low thrum of arousal.

“We got played,” Stiles whispers conspiratorially. “This,” he gestures between them, “it was all part of their plan! Our friends are _devious_.”

Derek nods, trying not to laugh at the serious look on Stiles’ face. “Yeah, Isaac told me.”

Stiles looks surprised for a moment. “You knew? And you still came?”

“So did you,” Derek says softly, shrugging.

Stiles leans in, closing the last inch between them and quickly presses his mouth to Derek’s. “Is this okay?” he asks, quietly, and Derek nods eagerly. Stiles suddenly looks much more clear-eyed as he grabs at Derek’s shoulders, pulling himself up until he’s straddling Derek’s lap. Stiles hums happily when Derek lies back, looming over him with a blinding grin. He runs his hands over Derek’s arms in feather-light touches, growing bolder as he starts touching Derek’s sides.

“You’re ridiculous,” Stiles murmurs, ducking his head and planting an open-mouthed kiss to Derek’s collarbone.

Derek huffs a laugh. “Come back up here.”

Stiles obliges, putting his weight on his forearms, framing Derek’s face. “Hi,” he says, with a small smile. Derek stretches up, kissing Stiles with care. He remembers wondering idly if Stiles’ hair is soft, realizes that he can find out, and threads his fingers through the short strands at the base of Stiles’ neck.

Stiles groans, leaning into Derek more heavily as he moves a hand to touch his cheekbone. Derek licks into Stiles’ mouth, feeling electric in a way he can’t remember feeling for a long time.

Derek is disrupted in his single-minded attempt to map every reaction he can get from Stiles when Stiles’ shoulders start shaking with repressed laughter.

“What?” Derek pulls away, noting that he sounds slightly dazed.

“Nothing, it’s just-” Stiles reaches a hand towards Derek’s face, thumbing his lower lip down. “Your little bunny teeth, they’re really cute.” Derek feels himself blush, but the earnest way Stiles is looking at him, like he’s not trying to tease- it makes Derek smile despite himself.

Stiles lets out a gaping yawn. Derek runs his hands under Stiles’ t-shirt. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little,” Stiles says with a slight pout. 

Derek pats the mattress next to him and Stiles slides down next to him. Derek pulls the covers over them, tucking himself into Stiles’ side. He throws an arm over Stiles’ waist. “This okay?” he asks quietly. Stiles bites his lip and nods. “Good,” Derek mutters. Stiles makes a small, happy noise when Derek pulls him into his chest.

“G’night, Derek.”

“Goodnight, Stiles.”

*

Stiles wakes to a loud thumping sound. He instinctively burrows his head under his pillow, but the banging won’t go away, so he reluctantly pulls himself from the bed- which he is in alone.

“Wassit?” he mumbles, when he opens the door to a fearsome looking Scott.

“Stiles! Do you have any _idea_ how much wine you drank last night?! On my tab! Expensive wine, Stiles!” Scott says, and Stiles can tell it’s only polite courtesy for the B &B’s other guests that keeps Scott from raising his voice.

Stiles rubs at his eyes. It’s far too early to be having this conversation. “You wanted me to come, Scott. And _you_ put me on your tab. Besides, it gave me the courage to kiss Derek, so I feel like it was money well spent-”

“You kissed Derek?!” Scott almost shrieks, excitement replacing anger.

“Yeah, I did dude, and it was awesome and I’m definitely gonna tell you about it but not now-”

“Right, right, okay. You’re still paying me for the wine!” Scott says, shutting the door behind him. Stiles leans against the frame, looking around the room.

“Derek?” he calls, ducking into the bathroom, but Derek’s just- not in the room. Okay, no reason to be panicked. He could’ve gone out to get… food? Maybe not- that would defeat the purpose of staying at a bed and breakfast. Stiles has worked himself into something of a tizzy when he sees the note sitting on the nightstand by his bed.

_8 am lecture this morning, didn’t want to wake you. I’ll call you tonight. -Derek_

Stiles deflates, sagging in relief. Tonight, because today is… Valentine’s Day. Right, no reason to freak out. Because it’s just a date! And there is nothing _auspicious_ about getting together with someone on Valentine’s Day. No pressure. Because it’s just a date, and Stiles is _not_ gonna think himself into anxiety over nothing.

Twelve hours later, when Stiles is home, he is definitely panicking. Only because Derek hasn’t called. Not that Stiles couldn’t call Derek if he wanted to, but- well, last night is a little hazy at the edges, but from what he remembers, Derek was pretty into him. _So then why hasn’t he called?_ God, he even sounds whiny in his head. It wouldn’t be the first time Stiles had been more into someone than they were into him, but he’d been sure that he and Derek were on the same page.

Stiles flops down on the couch, losing himself in some mindless television, dozing off at some point. He’s awoken when his phone starts vibrating in his pocket.

“Mmm. ‘Lo?” he mumbles, rolling onto his back as he adjusts his grip on the phone.

“Hey Stiles.”

“Derek?” Stiles jerks up, suddenly much more awake.

“It’s midnight,” Derek says, and Stiles can practically hear the smile in his voice.

Stiles scrubs a hand through his hair, confused and still half asleep. “Yes… it is?”

“So, I’m officially asking you out.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Derek laughs quietly. “It’s February 15th- it’s not Valentine’s Day anymore, and I am asking you on a date.”

“Still a little lost, Derek,” Stiles says, but the knot of worry he’s been carrying around in his gut all day finally loosens.

“It’s not Valentine’s Day. Our friends’ project has officially failed.”

Stiles smiles. “You waited until midnight to call because you wanted their set-up plan to fail, on a _technicality_?”

“I can be a little petty that way,” Derek says, sounding smug. “How does dinner sound?”

“When?” Stiles asks, sounding eager to his own ears, and not really caring.

“Now? I’ve kind of been waiting all day.”

Stiles laughs brightly. “Yeah, okay. I can be over in thirty?”

“I’m, uh- I’m outside now.”

“Seem pretty confident.”

“I was banking on you saying yes.”

Stiles bites his lip. He feels light, the tension from today gone and he’s practically giddy. “I’ll be out in five.”

He brushes his teeth, grabs a jacket and his keys as he runs outside. “Hi,” Stiles says, swinging himself into the Camaro. Derek smiles at him, reaching over the center console to kiss him hello in lieu of a greeting. Stiles hums happily. “Sorry about the rumpled state of, well, me.” He gestures to himself. “I can’t keep those fancy clothing standards except for special occasions.”

“I don’t know,” Derek says, leaning in close to get a hand around the back of Stiles’ neck. “I prefer you in your normal clothes.”

Stiles grins, trying to compose himself enough for Derek to kiss him properly, and mostly failing. Oh well, they have time to do it well enough later, anyway.

*

Derek takes Stiles’ hand in his, pulling him through the park.

“So. I have a surprise for you,” Stiles says, flashing him a smile as he hikes his backpack up his shoulder.

“You know I don’t like surprises.”

Derek can’t tell, but he’s pretty sure Stiles just rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. “Trust me. You’ll like this one.”

They approach the baseball diamond, Stiles swinging their joined hands slightly. Their friends are lounging across the small set of bleachers behind the backstop. Erica’s lying on a bench, her head pillowed on Boyd’s lap. Lydia’s idly braiding Erica’s hair, Jackson looking slightly sullen at the lack of attention beside her. Laura and Rob are spread out on the ground with a picnic blanket, Cary and Lilah scurrying around them, being entertained by a very patient Allison. On the bench below Lydia, Scott’s got an arm around Isaac, laughing at something Isaac’s said.

Catching sight of him and Stiles, Cary and Lilah take off towards them at a run. Stiles drops Derek’s hand to pick Cary up in a tight hug, Cary letting out high-pitched giggle as he wriggles in Stiles’ grip. Lilah leaps on Derek and squeals in his ear. Derek winces, and sees Stiles try to bite down a smile at him.

After some brief child-wrangling, Derek lifts Lilah and Cary and dumps them unceremoniously on Laura’s blanket.

“You losers ready to play?” Erica asks, lifting herself from her sprawl.

“Yeah _losers_ , are you ready?” Cary asks Derek and Laura, hands on his hips and looking pleased with himself for picking up Erica’s language.

“Cary, don’t call people losers. Erica, stop teaching my kids new ways to get in trouble. But she does have a point- up!” Laura starts waving those of the group who are playing up and off the bleachers. 

Stiles sidles up next to Derek. “Here’s your surprise,” he says, digging through his backpack and producing a baseball glove.

“Uh, thanks, Stiles.” Derek takes the glove, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “But- I have a glove. And this one’s a little small for me.”

“Oh, it’s not for you,” Stiles says, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“It’s for me,” Scott says, coming up behind Derek. “Stiles convinced me to give it a shot.”

“You- you’re playing with us?”

“Yeah,” Scott says easily, taking the glove and making to follow Isaac onto the field.

“You got Scott to play? For me?” Derek asks, his voice sounding sort of… awe-inspired. Sometimes, the things Stiles does for him, the way Stiles manages to show he _cares_ , floors Derek.

Stiles visibly preens. “Well, it’s something you wanted a lot, and Scott was mostly holding out just to bug you, anyway, and-” Derek cuts him off with a kiss, reveling in the way Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s neck, how he melts into Derek every time.

Derek pulls back, resting his forehead against Stiles’. “Cary wanted to know if we’re still on for the natural history museum next weekend,” Stiles says.

“Mmm, yeah, well, we did promise, didn’t we?”

“We did.” Stiles nods solemnly. “Plus, dinosaurs!”

“You’re actually a child.”

“A child you’re-”

Derek claps a hand over Stiles’ mouth. “I’m going to stop you right there. Werewolf children with good hearing are present.”

Stiles is giving a self-satisfied smile when Derek pulls his hand away. “Gimme your phone, I’m gonna set a reminder for the museum,” Stiles says, making grabby hands until he gets Derek’s phone. Stiles smiles down at the screen, where the lockscreen is the picture of them from the winery- Stiles kissing Derek’s cheek, and Derek’s eyes are closed, a surprised smile on his face.

“Go kick Scott’s ass,” he says, handing Derek’s phone back.

“You sure you don’t want to play?”

“And embarrass myself without supernatural abilities? I think I’ll stick with the kids and assorted humans.”

“You wouldn’t embarrass yourself too badly. Probably,” Derek says with a smirk, mostly to get a rise out of Stiles.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’m working on making a bat out of mountain ash.”

“Scary. And I’m not sure how that would be helpful.”

“I haven’t figured it all out just yet,” Stiles says, trying not to laugh. “Maybe next time.”

“If you’re sure.” Derek ducks in, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ temple. Stiles smiles, and he jogs back to the bleachers, looking back over his shoulder and throwing Derek a wink. It’s dumb, but Derek’s heart kind of skips when Stiles does silly stuff like that. Dumb, but nice- definitely nice. Stiles has carved a place for himself in Derek’s life, filled in parts that weren’t _incomplete_ before, but that Derek doesn’t quite know how he did without for so long. He looks over during the game to see Stiles laughing with Rob, chatting with Allison, being a human jungle gym for Lilah and Cary; and he always, always looks over with a smile for Derek. Yeah, Derek thinks, giving Stiles a quick grin as he steps up to bat- this feeling that Derek isn’t quite ready to give a name to, is dumb but very, very nice.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at themistymountainsong.tumblr.com :)


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